


Only Living Boy in New York

by HolmesApothecary



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Boys In Love, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Patrick in David's sweaters, winter fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 14:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21017174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolmesApothecary/pseuds/HolmesApothecary
Summary: The power is out, Patrick curses, and David is thankful for a walk he once took.





	Only Living Boy in New York

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SCFrozenOver](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCFrozenOver) collection. 

> **Prompt:**  
It gets really *really* cold, really suddenly, one year in Schitt's Creek and Patrick has to borrow one (or two) of David's sweaters to make up for his lack of weather-appropriate clothes. David can't even pretend to be annoyed at the sight of his husband in his very soft clothes and is instead living for it.  
It can be any rating, my only request is that it is Tender™ (sweater paws are optional but appreciated!).

The first thought David had upon waking was that the tip of his nose was frostbitten...he was sure of it. What he wasn’t sure about was what exactly had woken him up—just that his numb nose was what brought him to full alertness. Actually, maybe it was the familiar voice that...

“Fuck!”

It took a lot to get Patrick Brewer to curse. He usually kept it pretty PG unless very mad or very turned on. David wanted to investigate exactly which one was happening, but the sharp, cold air made him shudder and duck back under the blankets. Besides, since he was all the way across the room, it was surely the former. 

“Ouch, fucking hell!”

“Um, Patrick? What exactly is going on?”

“The power is out. And I hit my toe...twice and it’s fucking freezing and I cannot find clothes….oh wait, here.” 

Patrick went quiet and David heard rustling and then a click. Patrick came into view from the little flashlight he kept in the closet for emergencies such as these (David had married a boy scout). He didn’t seem too worse for wear, but he was bundled up in at least two sweaters. 

David’s sweaters.

David’s Comme des Garçons Plus hoodie he got in Tokyo that boring trip to see the cherry blossoms that failed to show and his black Rick Owens sweater...the sweater he was wearing the day he met Patrick. David suddenly felt warm despite the frigid air. He never would have imagined that someday the cocky but charming man he met that day would be standing in front of him in the very same sweater. 

Patrick aimed the flashlight towards him, bringing him out of his reminiscing.

“What? You look too happy for this weather.” 

David smiled widely at him, causing Patrick’s face to scrunch up adorably in confusion.

“Come back to bed, Patrick. I’ll warm you up.”

\---------

Despite the lovely and warm morning under the covers, the glacial temperatures awaited them when they woke up a second time. Power still out, they knew they needed to check on the store. Patrick reminded him that they didn’t need any mishaps with frozen pipes this winter. 

David joined in on the swearing as they dressed to go out. Skincare be damned today, he pulled a beanie over his hair and swore again as he looked for socks. 

“Here,” Patrick said as he held out a pair of his dumb wool socks that David often daydreamed about burning. 

“I’ll trade you my incorrect socks for one of your sweaters. Mine don’t seem to be as warm.”

David sighed, “Deal.” He knew better than to snark when his toes were about to fall off. He pulled on the warm but scratchy socks and went to grab them both a sweater. As much as he’d love to select just the perfect sweater for Patrick, he grabbed one of the warmest instead, pulling another out for himself and quickly putting it on. 

“Here, this will help.” Patrick handed David a piping hot mug of tea in exchange for the sweater. “Thank god for a gas stove.” 

David watched over the rim of his mug as Patrick pulled the dark grey sweater on over his flannel shirt (incorrect). He again felt that warm rush at the sight of Patrick in his clothes (and maybe also because his nose was finally warm).

The last time David had worn that particular sweater, he had been all alone in New York. He’d been restless and unable to sleep one night so he had pulled it on and just...walked. Walked through the uncharacteristically quiet city that was just beginning to wake up. Walked and wondered...wondered if he would just always be alone in a great big city full of people. 

Now here he stood, not alone, with the one person who he could never have imagined back then on that walk, but was oh so happy to have found. 

Patrick came up to him and snagged his mug, taking a drink before handing it back with a kiss to David’s cheek with his now warm lips. David had to remind himself that it was too cold to cry. 

“Ready to do this?”

“Mmmm, as I’ll ever be,” he said, gulping down his tea. 

They grabbed their coats and boots, and David wound his ridiculously long (but warm) scarf around his neck. Patrick chuckled at him, so David got him back by pulling down the sides of his beanie over his ears. How someone so sensible could never learn to wear a hat, he’d never know. 

\---------

Heading out, the air was beyond biting. 

“Son of a bitch that is cold.”   
  
Apparently, extreme cold is what brought out Patrick’s mouth. 

It was quicker to just walk 3 blocks to the store than it was to wait for the car to warm up, so they set a brisk pace, heads down. Even with that, David reached out and grabbed Patrick’s gloved hand in his own.

As the store and the cafe came into view, Twyla waved to them from where she was unlocking the front door of the cafe. 

“We have the generator going, come by to warm up and eat later.”

They nodded and headed into the store. Everything seemed to be fine. Patrick set the faucets to drip and David peered into the fridge but figured the cheese would probably survive with the cold of the outside air, at least for now. 

Not much left to do with no power, they headed across the street to the cafe. 

It was already much warmer in the cafe, and David felt the chill leave him as they sat down as far from the door as they could. Twyla had hot coffee ready, and she and Patrick made small talk about getting a generator for the store as she took their order. 

It was finally warm enough to remove their coats and as they ate, people waved or said hi as they came and went from the cafe. David looked at Patrick across the table in his sweater and thought again about that night on the streets of New York. Here, surrounded by all these people in this tiny town who knew him and cared about him. Here with the husband he never could have predicted, David was so grateful for that quiet, lonely walk...grateful that it had led him here to this moment—this life. 

“I say we go home, build a fire, make hot chocolate and hide under the covers until spring,” Patrick said with a smile over his coffee cup, sleeves pulled over his hands. His stupid hat was once again rucked up above his ears and the collar of his blue flannel shirt was just peeking out over the neckline of David’s sweater, ruining the look. Yet, David wouldn’t have him any other way. 

“Sounds like the perfect plan.” 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at [HolmesApothecary](https://holmesapothecary.tumblr.com/).


End file.
